He kisses the tip of my nose. “I like it better like this,” he murmurs.
Then he opens the door and offers me his hand.
I slide my clammy palm into his, letting him pull me from the car. Rafael stands off to the side, eyes averted.
My cheeks burn.
Breathing deeply, I ready myself, concealing my face with a mask.
A bitter taste fills my mouth; the mere thought of facing Lucas after what happened that night fuels a burning resentment. My knuckles turn white, digging into Enzo's arm as we step inside, a chilling premonition tightening my throat. He rests his hand over mine, his thumb caressing my skin with a gentle warmth.
At the door, the guard scrutinizes the invitation we forged.
I wait, holding my breath, until he signals us to proceed.
Enzo leans in, whispering, "You can do this,Cuore mio," just as the ballroom doors swing open.
The sheer number of guests at this event is terrifying. It's not just a matter of how many, but of the identities of those present. The fucking Vice President is in attendance. Men of significant wealth and influence are present, including tech moguls, CEOs, and those from old money families. There aren't many women here, but I'm not the only one. That thought ignites a furious fire within me, a burning rage that threatens to consume. I feel adesperate surge of helplessness; these women, their complicity undeniable, are as culpable as the rest.
Grateful for the lack of assigned seating, we settle into a table near the back, where the chatter is less intense.
Lucas appearing onstage stiffens my shoulders; he blends into the walls in his beige suit.
"Friends," he calls into the microphone, the sound amplified and crackling slightly, his hands clapping sharply for attention. The room goes silent, the last few stragglers finding their seats quickly.
“Let’s dive right into the auction tonight, shall we?”
A stocky man drags a naked woman onto the stage. My stomach drops. She’s crying, her head down, shoulders sagged. She’s given up. We knew this was what we were in store for, but seeing it is a whole different ball game.
It never gets easier.
My hand finds Enzo’s under the table. He gives me a reassuring squeeze.
Excited murmurs echo through the hall, men's eyes gleaming as they take in the broken girl.
Gio, who’s sitting at a separate table, gives us a subtle head shake.
He’s here with the ulterior motive of trying to find his sister's best friend.
“This one is well trained, broken in.” Lucas licks his lips as he speaks, gaze roaming over the naked girl with lust. My stomach threatens to empty. “Should we start bidding at $10,000?”
Hands start flying, the price increasing—up and up it goes until it gets to $50,000.
Enzo’s muscles are locked tight next to me, his jaw clenched, eyes threatening to twitch.
The next girl is announced as a virgin. She can’t be much more than sixteen. Her body trembles as she tries to cover herself.
Bidding starts at $40,000.
She’s sold for $100,500.
I make sure to keep track of who buys each girl at the event.
Gio straightens up, his masked face now directed at the girl beside Lucas, a subtle shift in posture noticeable across theroom. Lucas has his hand on her breast, a laugh on his lips as he begins the bidding war.
Numbers fly.
Then Gio raises his paddle.
